


A New Year

by ladyredms



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Not BMB canon, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyredms/pseuds/ladyredms
Summary: Ellis is excited for New Years, and has no intention of letting the ongoing zombie apocalypse put a damper on his night.Nick is tired.
Relationships: Ellis & Nick (Left 4 Dead), Ellis/Nick (Left 4 Dead)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	A New Year

_23:55:00_  
  
Ellis held his breath carefully, leaning further forward on the dirtied couch in the middle of the slightly trashed living room. One leg was stretched out behind him, toes just barely brushing the carpet to keep himself balanced, while the other curled tightly against the sofa cushions. He grasped onto the backboard of the couch, squeezing in excitement.  
  
Blue eyes sat widely on the circular clock that hung tremulously from the wall, tilted just the softest bit. The twelve sat where the one should have, and Ellis' head tipped to the side just a tick to account for it.  
  
Barely flickering electricity kept the thing moving, its hour hand just centimeters from the dark black '12' while the minute hand lazily moved along its rotation to join it there, the second hand jerking in circles around both of them.  
  
"Oh muh Lord, Nick, 'm so glad you agreed tuh stay up... this is so excitin'!"

Nick withheld a sigh as he let one arm drape over the arm of the couch. His luck that they'd found a house with working electricity to sleep in that night, so Ellis had the ability to obsess like he was. It was likely not even correct, though close enough that he couldn't say so - if Ellis would even listen to him.  
  
Considering Ellis was taking up the middle of the couch with his coiled excitement, body trembling with restrained energy, Nick was left slightly crushed against the arm of the sofa. It put a little too much pressure on a Witch-inflicted wound on his rib. He somewhat moodily pushed the other man a few inches away with his elbow, but the Georgian barely even reacted.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, sure, Overalls. Because you were definitely _asking_ when you fucking dragged me out of bed. Why the hell are you so goddamn excited? The fuck do we have to look forward to, other than more of this completely fucked up world with a new number tacked onto it?"  
  
 _23:56:00_  
  
Ellis inhaled sharply, and though he was clearly surprised by the statement, the kid couldn't tear his eyes off the clock. It was like he was terrified he might miss seconds. Like the clock would suddenly leap forward if he looked away.  
  
Or - as it occurred to Nick - like something magical was even going to happen that he might miss at all.  
  
"C'mon, Nick... Get intuh the spirit'uh things! This's a new year, man. New chances, new opportunities. A new take on life." His voice raised, stoic, like he might've been aware of his stuffy cliché. "Sayin' goodbye tuh all you've done, 'n sayin' hello tuh all yuh can do!"  
  
The gambler sighed, heavily. He wearily rubbed at the bridge of his nose. All the memories he had of New Years were just splotchy blurs on his consciousness, and none of them had even been particularly good blurs. He'd never had a New Years experience that mattered, just excuses to drink and find a warm body for the night.

And that was before the apocalypse.  
  
 _23:57:00_  
  
"Jesus. It's just a fucking day, like anything else, dumbshit. Tomorrow we'll go right back to the same life-or-death bullshit."  
  
Ellis shook his head tightly, smiling brightly as he tightened his dirtied fingers even harsher on the sofa's back. "Who knows, Nick. I always feel different when a new year comes 'round. Fresh, y'know?" His voice dropped to a whine in a split-second, bouncing slightly on his knee. "Awh man, we're so dang close!"  
  
Nick rolled his eyes, sighing again as he set the knuckles of his other hand against his temple. "Dumbshit. Who even knows if that clock is on time?" He started to slump, trying to close his eyes and maybe drift off. He was tired - the day had been too long, too exhausting. He wished he had an ounce of Ellis' energy, just an ounce, so he could enjoy something for a few minutes.  
  
 _23:58:00_  
  
He started to doze vaguely - right up till the point when Ellis' voice, hopeful and begging, buzzed in his ear. "... Watch it with me, Nick, please? This only happens once'uh year.."  
  
Nick flicked his eyes open, green boring in slight frustration into Ellis' blue ones. The younger man had finally looked away from the clock and was staring at him, pleadingly. Something about it weakened the gambler's resolve, and with a weighty exhale, he pushed himself into a slight twist.

Tossing an arm over the back of the couch, he craned his head subtly to fix his gaze on the clock. He could see Ellis' expression melt into a wide smile, looking back up at it too. They sat together, gazes focused together on the tip of the second hand as it jolted along its never-ending circle, and Nick didn't wholly notice that his own head took a soft tip just like Ellis'.  
  
 _23:59:00_  
  
He actually heard the soft click of the minute hand, wearily making the same motion it had for who knew how long, scraping along a dirtied paper background on tired gears.  
  
Ellis' fingers dug into the fabric of the sofa cushion. They squeezed, kneading, and Nick could feel his excitement, tangible in the air. If it wasn't so exhausting, his insensible thrill would've been a bit endearing.

Like it always was.   
  
_23:59:30_  
  
Subtly... Nick's gaze tore from the clock, just for a split second, darting to Ellis' face and then back. He wasn't sure why. Maybe he just wanted to see the excitement he could feel. And he did, brazen and eager over Ellis' face, almost giddy. Like a kid.  
  
Nick's heartbeat picked up faintly in his chest.  
  
 _23:59:40_  
  
Something changed in the air. Suddenly seconds counted, and it wasn't the usual kind of importance - they weren't the difference between shooting a Hunter or getting pounced, or jumping out of the way of a Charger or getting hit - or rushing, hurrying, speeding to get a bandage on that gushing wound...  
  
They ticked away with tangible passing, creeping on and slipping away. Too slow, then too fast.  
  
 _23:59:50_  
  
Ellis sucked in a sudden breath. Nick couldn't quite tear his focus from the clock to look - he was swept up, despite himself, completely awake and aware. He didn't know what it was.  
  
He hadn't been sober for this moment in years - would it really be any different? Would anything change? Or would the whole world just stay fucked up and ruined, darkened and warped? A new year in a dead time.  
  
 _23:59:55_  
  
Pain, fear, loneliness. The knowledge that everything he'd chosen to reject long ago, thrown them away, thrown people and feelings and opportunities away; they were really gone, now. He'd never actually get them back, and he could never even try. He'd wasted his whole life, and now he had nothing.  
  
What good was even pretending to be excited?  
  
 _23:59:56_  
  
Nick almost jumped when Ellis' hand suddenly lifted from the back of the couch. He didn't expect it to sweep abruptly toward him, and his focus on the clock broke when the kid's cut-marked fingers grasped the collar of his blue dress shirt.  
  
 _23:59:57_  
  
He turned his head, startled and jumping into annoyance, a harsh word on the tip of his tongue. He didn't know what exactly had stirred the Georgian into that motion, but he thoroughly intended to swipe him off... until he saw Ellis' expression.  
  
Determined. Nervous. Thrilled.  
  
 _23:59:58_  
  
Nick couldn't quite convince himself to move when Ellis suddenly leaned toward him. His brain couldn't entirely process the moment, senses whirring with the same dull motion as the second hand that played such cruel games on his psyche.  
  
 _23:59:59_  
  
The bill of Ellis' cap nestled against the top of Nick's forehead as his head tipped. Underneath the shadow of it, a shadow linked them, protectively draped down over their faces, a safe haven. Their lips met with a quiet intensity, dry warmth melting them together.  
  
Where Ellis' fingers grasped Nick's collar, Nick's right hand darted up to cup on the back of the other man's bent neck. His fingers reflexively, intently tightened to curl faintly there. He didn't let either of them move, holding Ellis there, refusing to release him and risk having to think through what was happening.  
  
In that second - that tiny, dragging second - Nick felt like he'd stolen back at least a scrap of what he'd long resigned to having lost.  
  
 _00:00:00_


End file.
